


A Long Walk

by brighidg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brighidg/pseuds/brighidg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy and Asteria Greengrass, their story told in one hundred parts.</p><p>(Or one hundred non-linear, not-always-connected ficlets and drabbles done in the same universe. Based on the table from fanfic100 @ lj.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 001: Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> All characters owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury and Warner Brothers. I own nothing and make no profit off of this. Also, I spell it Asteria because that's how J.K. Rowling spells it on the family tree.

The sound of the summer rain hitting the window, the soft bed beneath him, and Asteria curled beside him, her fingers running through his hair; Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd been this content. Closing his eyes, he saw Asteria straddling him as they rocked together and he thought about blowing off his plans for the rest afternoon to stay in bed with her.

"No sleeping," she whispered, brushing a knuckle across his cheek. 

He tilted his head towards her, his eyes still closed as he said, "I'm not."

She scoffed at this. "Your mother is expecting you at the manor in an hour and I will not lie for you no matter how much I love you."

Draco blinked, looking over at her as she hastily looked away. 

Neither of them had said those words yet and he hadn't expected she would say them first. From the way she was trying to pull away from him without making it obvious and failing at both, she hadn't expected it either.

He opened his mouth to say something and quickly shut it again. The natural response simply wouldn't come to him and he wasn't so stupid as to think 'really?' or 'thanks' would be appropriate.

"I'm going to shower," she said, standing and pulling on her robe. She didn't look back as she walked out of the room.

* * *

He had cried for Asteria once. 

After he had ruined everything and pushed her away, Draco had found that the constant misery he had once found so easy to bear had grown stifling. He had missed the sex, of course, the pull between them was unlike anything he had known before or since and whatever it was she had stirred in him, he knew she was the only one who could sate that hunger. But he had missed her friendship more. The loneliness that had once been so comfortable, the loneliness that he had told himself came with this new world order and being who he was, seemed ready to overwhelm him.

She had left him weaker and he had very nearly hated her for that. 

Draco couldn't even manage that in the end, his need for her stronger than his wounded pride.

* * *

Asteria accepted his invitation to tea with a determined cheeriness that left him unnerved. 

It had been three days since he had last seen her and he had been trying to think of some way to smooth things over. This wasn't it, however. 

His mother had told him his that his Aunt Andromeda wished to have them both join her and Teddy for tea. Draco had invited Asteria along, convincing his mother that he had done because she and Andromeda worked together and were friends. 

Truth be told, he didn't like being around his aunt. She looked too much like but Bellatrix and acted too different from anyone he had ever known; her regal Black bearing and her blood traitor beliefs making her a riddle to him. She wasn't like the Weasleys she now associated with, she was too much of a Black for that and it was clear she she had her own reasons for accepting his mother's olive branch and introducing them to Teddy. But she was like no pureblood of her status that he had ever known.

Asteria liked her and the two got on quite well. More importantly, Teddy liked Asteria and her being there meant she could act like a buffer. It always happened that his mother and aunt would spend most of their time talking to each other and Draco was expected to keep his five-year old cousin entertained. With Asteria here, he could talk to her and, better yet, so could Teddy.

That determinedly easy-going attitude she had been working so hard on had wavered when had had admitted this but she had taken on the role with aplomb. Teddy seemed quite taken with her, his hair switch from golden blonde to a jet black as he sat beside her on the couch, his fairy cake forgotten as he told her about his day.

As a Malfoy there were things expected of him, chief among them that he would marry well and continue the name. As a dutiful son, he had always intended to do just that. He had simply expected it to come later in life. He would need those years to build a life, to re-establish the Malfoy name and replenish their vaults. With enough time, enough good press and gold, it would be easy to find a pureblood witch who would see it as an honor rather than a liability to take his name.

Or so he hoped. He didn't want to marry just anyone. The woman he married had to be intelligent, strong-willed, and kind. She had to be someone on whom he could rely, who could bear the weight of the Malfoy name and not wilt underneath it. For the sake of their future children, he'd want her to be attractive but passion was a luxury. He needed a partner and mother to his would-be children first, not a lover. 

Teddy curled next to Asteria, a book in his lap as he they read and a strange feeling came over Draco as he watched the two of them. Before he was ready for it, he had found everything he had been looking for and more.

* * *

Ten days had passed and Draco was beginning to wonder if Asteria's cool attitude was an act. Logic told him it had to be but she stuck so resolutely to her script that he was starting to doubt himself. These past few days they had fallen into their normal routine of having dinner together and spending their nights in each others arms.

Kissing her forehead, he pushed himself off of her and opened the window with an easy flick of his wand. A soft breeze cut through the heat of the room and in the distance, he could hear the roll of thunder. 

The smell of sex and sweat in the air, Draco laid back down on the bed with Asteria next to him. Last night he had been willing to ignore it but tonight he knew for certain that things weren't back to normal. It wasn't the sex, that had been a hungry frenzy that had him trying to convey what he had so far failed to say, but the sudden coolness after. She didn't curl up next to him, she didn't even speak to him.

Rolling onto his side and propping himself up on an arm, Draco looked at her. She had one arm over her eyes as she lay there, her black hair sticking to her neck and chest as the sweat cooled on her still-flushed skin. He drank in the sight of her, her nipples tight from the cool air, the smooth plane of her stomach and the dark curls below and the wetness he could still see on her thighs. He wanted her again, he wondered if he could ever have enough of her. 

That was the question that scared him the most. 

She raised her arm and caught his gaze. There was a vulnerability in her eyes that made his breath catch in his throat. In an instant was gone, replaced by that calm mask. 

"I need a shower," she said, pushing herself up and moving from the bed. "I can't wait for this heat to break."

Draco watched her move around the room, chattering on about the weather and mentioning things they could do without asking outright. He would have to make the move just like he was the one who had to invite her to tea, he had to ask to see her for dinner, and he was the one to kiss her. Before, he couldn't even say who had done what but now he knew she would not give him an inch more than she had. It was on him.

She walked over to the window, pushing it down so it was only open a crack as the rain began to fall. Throwing the covers aside, Draco walked over to where she was, catching her wrist.

"Will you be joining me?" she asked lightly as she turned towards him. The corners of her mouth tugged down for a second and he saw something flicker across her face as if she had already violated her internals rules by saying that.

"Like you need to ask," he murmured, kissing her as he wrapped his arms around her. After a beat, she responded in kind, her body pressing against his in way that had him wanting to take her back to bed.

He broke off the kiss, resting his forehead against hers as his chin traced the line of her jaw. In that moment he couldn't understand why he hadn't said the words he'd felt for so long.

"I love you."


	2. In Front of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working my way through my fanfic100 table, this is for prompt 002: Middles. Title from Rachael Yamagata's "Don't". Thank you to everyone who read and commented/gave kudos on the first part.

Queer as it was, Asteria could understand the younger witch. In another life, she might have even been her. Yes, she'd been far more innocent at nineteen but she could afford to be. For its many flaws, Britain at least paid lip service to the idea of gender equality. Russian Wizarding society, and particularly the upper echelons to which they belonged, was proudly chauvinistic almost in defiance of whatever strides their Muggle counterparts had made. A witch's place was beside a wizard whether it be as his wife, mistress, or his assistant. And unless she aimed for one of the other positions, an assistant was the most she would ever be. 

So it made sense that a young, clever witch with the kind of tight body and hooded gaze that drove men wild would use that to her advantage. It was one of the few cards that she could play. Lara – and Asteria knew enough of Muggle literature to find some dark amusement in her name – was still young enough that she could choose to be picky. Why choose some nearly four times her age like Fyodor, someone who already had a mistress like Oleg, or someone bad-tempered like Nestor when there were better options to be had? Draco was an established Potions Master, the favorite of their boss, young, wealthy, and only had a wife to contend with.

Taking a sip of her wine, Asteria watched the pair at the table. Nor did it hurt that her husband cut a striking figure in his tailored suit. She had always enjoyed how he looked in Muggle suits, tall and lean, his shoulders seeming broader. Most of all she loved being able to stand between his thighs, to see his arousal and hear the delicious sounds of the belt coming unbuckled and the zip being lowered.

Perhaps Lara felt the same. Maybe after she finished her drink she would go over to them and ask her what she liked best about fucking her husband. 

“Vat about you, my dear?”

Asteria looked around to see that every eye at the table was on her. Galina Dobrulubsky had an unusual look on her sharp features, one that would have been considered “gentle” on any other face. That she knew the score stung; that she could console herself with the knowledge that at least her husband's mistress didn't show up at their dinner parties was the salt in the wound.

“I'm sorry, I wasn't listening,” Asteria answered.

This earned a smirk from Nina and a giggle from Yun. 

“I vanted to know if you will attend the luncheon I am hosting next veek. Ve vill go to ballet. Madam Ivanova will be joining us.”

“I'd be delighted,” she answered immediately, forestalling any further explanation. They would probably mistake it for eagerness on her part but she long ago stopped caring for such events. With the President's wife in attendance, every witch in her social circle would be there, offering their help for the next charity event, trying to squeeze their way into her good graces, grasping for any bit of power they could find. 

Asteria was reminded of a flock of crows, left to pick over the remains after the wolves had had their share.

Draining her glass, she excused herself from the table. She walked past Draco and Lara, taking in the way their knees almost touched and the easy way Lara had her hand on his wrist as she went.  
Once outside, she pulled a cigarette from the case she carried in her purse and lit it with her wand. Though it was nearly April she could see the heat rising off her skin in the cold air. She hated Russia. For one mad moment she wanted to scream into the night, to throw herself off the balcony, to set the entire bloody mansion ablaze with everyone in it.

She startled when she felt something heavy and warm around her shoulders and turned to see Draco smirking at her as he placed his coat on her. 

“Galina asked if you were feeling well,” he said by way of explanation.

He silently stood beside her, looking out at the frost-covered trees. Perhaps she should have been reassured or comforted but all she could think was how condescending he was being.

“Tell her I'm fine,” she replied coolly. Asteria turned, wanting to watch his reaction to her next words. “I was just wondering, dear, how long have you and Lara been fucking?”

Watching his expression change from shock to indignation, she cursed her impulsiveness. Legilimency or Veritaserum would have been the wiser choices and now that she'd given voice to her suspicions, they wouldn't even be options.

“You're unbelievable,” he sneered.

“Oh, I'm sorry, darling, did I misinterpret the way you kept glancing at her tits? Or the way she looked ready to crawl into your lap?” 

He scoffed, shaking his head. 

“And all those long nights in the laboratory?”

“Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? Hmm?” Draco closed the space between them, his face close enough to hers that she could almost taste the vodka he'd been drinking. “We're working on a deadline.”

Though she wanted to slap him for the slow, clipped tone he'd use as if she might be hard of hearing, there was a part of her that wanted to believe him. And if she didn't know him so well, maybe she would.

“Is it peer pressure? Do you feel left out, is that it?” She asked, pushing away from him and nearly stumbling in her heels as she did. “All your little friends have girlfriends and you want one too?”

“You're drunk and you're going home,” he said, grabbing her arm and likely getting ready to Apparate her there. His grip was loose, however, and she pulled away easily, throwing his coat at his head as she did.

She laughed loudly when his first reaction was to glance quickly at the French doors where the rest of their party was. Even in the dim light she could see him color at that.

“It's understandable you would be jealous,” he drawled and Asteria considered throwing her pewter cigarette case at his head. “But you're making a spectacle of yourself.”

“You don't know why I'm jealous. You're too stupid and selfish to get it,” she said, shaking her head. Draco smirked at this, fixing her with an indulgent look as she continued. “I had top marks in school, several NEWTS, and recommendation letters from half the staff. I'm supposed to do more in life than pick out curtains and hang on your arm.”

He didn't look surprised at all and she found that only hurt more.

“And whose fault is that?” he asked. “Did I lock you in our bedroom and prevent you from taking a job? You wanted to stay home with our son so you did. You want a job so go get one.”

Draco slipped back into his jacket and smoothed down his hair once again. “Of course you might have had an easier time of it if you'd bothered to pick up the language while here but, nevertheless, if you're really interested you can apply at the sanatorium to join their nursing staff--”

“I didn't spend five years training at St. Mungo's so I could empty bedpans!” she screamed. Asteria pushed past him, walking through the dining room rather than Apparating from the balcony. If he didn't care about her dignity, she wouldn't spare his.

*~***~*

Fyodor pressed a tumbler of chilled vodka into his hands before taking a seat across from Draco. “I am sorry for your loss. You aunt vas remarkable voman.”

“Indeed,” he replied, raising his glass before taking a drink. Saying anything more would betray his true feelings regarding Aurelia Malfoy. “And I should be congratulating you, I hear you've received good news on the India matter.”

“Yes. Ve should be established by June next year, at latest. It is good market to break into. I think it vill be a great experience for anyone goes. The estate there is in good condition, ve just need to restock the apothecary and laboratory. But is very good place.”

“No doubt,” Draco said. Part of the reason the price of an apprenticeship under Dobrulubsky was so steep was that room and board were included. After those first eighteen months of tutelage, he shipped his apprentices abroad to work in his shops in Seoul, Paris, New York, Rio de Janeiro, and now, Mumbai. If they stayed with him after finishing their apprenticeship, he would let them continue to live in one of the many residences he had in each country. 

He had done his apprenticeship in Paris and, if it hadn't been for all the French people, he would have stayed. As it was, he'd been more than happy to return to Russia rather than try his hand at another locale. So many of them seemed to have no sense of proper wizard feeling. And while this estate on the Lakshadweep Islands was more than nice, it wasn't enough to tempt him to work somewhere overrun with Muggles.

“Perhaps Jack would be interested,” he suggested. “At least the weather there might be more to his liking.”

Born and raised in Southern California, the younger wizard still complained about the bitter Russian winters after suffering through six of them. It would be nice not to have to listen to his whinging for another year. It would also allow Lara, the most junior of the team, a chance to move up in the ranks.

“Maybe. I vould like someone with more experience,” Fyodor admitted. “How is your Asteria? She seemed upset the other night. Is she feeling vell?”

“She's just under the weather.” After their argument, Draco had made it a point to come home at half past three in the morning. He had missed breakfast and so had only seen Asteria briefly during dinner that night. She did not come to bed and had informed Scorpius and their maid that she would be running errands all day. For all he knew she was visiting her aunt and father, two of the most accomplished Juriswizards in Britain, and planning her divorce. 

However, as she was clearly dying for him to ask, he would be damned if he did. 

“Galina spends her summers in our cottage at the Adriatic Sea. Is good for her and for me.”

Draco merely nodded at this piece of information and congratulated himself on his self-control. He had no doubt it was good for Fyodor as he spent the summers taking his young mistress out to parties and the opera rather than keeping her locked up in her flat. 

“Asteria has family in Switzerland as well as England. Maybe I'll persuade her that a visit is in order,” Draco lied. As entertaining as the idea was in theory, Asteria would only take it as a challenge that she'd be too pig-headed to back down from.

Fyodor nodded, however, looking pleased that he could offer some helpful advice. “I must say, Draco, when your aunt first suggested taking you under my ving, I vas not looking forward to it. I did not expect you to last very long, if you made it here at all.”

Draco snorted at this, knowing full well Aurelia's low opinion of him. He still had no idea why she had gone out of her way to help him other than out of spite and familial pride. Given her bitter relationship with Lucius and how audaciously she had lived in her later years, he suspected it was more the former. Abraxas' elder sister, as a girl she'd been married off to a wealthy French pure-blood wizard twenty years her senior. When he had died, she had decided to live life on her terms. She took a string of lovers, of which Draco suspected a younger Fyodor of having been one, before settling down with a Muggle-born thirty years her junior. 

Lucius had kept quiet about her existence, so much so that when Draco had awoken one afternoon to a skunk-haired older witch poking him in the side of his head with her jewel-topped cane whilst introducing herself as his great aunt, he'd been certain that he had overdosed.

“She was never a sentimental woman.” 

Fyodor gave a great belly laugh at that, refilling both his tumbler and Draco's. Lifting his glass, he said, “To unsentimental vomen.”

They downed their vodka this time and Draco realized that Fyodor had charmed the glassed to automatically refill.

“I must ask, I have all this time been curious, how did you get the money so quickly? Your aunt had me thinking it would be years before you began your apprenticeship, if that.”

Draco stilled, feeling as if all the drinks he'd had were finally catching up with him. “I had help.”

“Aurelia?”

“No, no.” Aurelia had been adamant that if she fronted half the money, Draco had to provide the rest. She seemed to think that living through a war, trials, and being an outcast from society hadn't done enough to rid him of his spoiled nature. To offer anything more would have been foolishness. “Someone else.”

“I see. A very generous person. My fee is not cheap.”

Draco nodded dully, wondering almost if this was some sort of game. But it couldn't be, there was no possible way for him to know. No one else he worked with knew and his aunt had gone to her deathbed likely thinking Narcissa had been the one to raise the money. His mother surely would have done so if there had been anything left to pawn and if she had known the dire straits her son had been in.

Instead, it was Asteria who came to his aid. Without asking, she had emptied her vault at Gringotts and handed over everything she had saved in her two-and-half years as a Trainee Healer. She had handed over the money without ceremony and Draco had felt like a drowning man who'd finally broken the surface. Like anyone else saved from a horrible fate, he'd made hundreds of promises that he'd either forgotten or broken over the years.

“For the Mumbai project, you'll need a Healer as well, right? You mentioned before wanting to launch a new line and the trials to be done for the new elixirs.”

Fyodor shrugged. “Vell, yes, but I need a Potion's Master first.”

“You'll have both,” he said.

It was the least he could do.


End file.
